A Chrismukkah Tale
by fleeting fancy
Summary: AU set in New York.


**A/N: This story is an AU set in New York. No beta, so apologies for mistakes.**

**Also, to anyone who read this right away, I was trying to reread and see if I could spot and correct some typos and decided to tweak the ending slightly.**

"Ma? I'll be back in a bit, ok?", Ryan said as he put on his jacket and gloves. Grabbing his guitar, he added, "I'll bring that soup you like from the diner", he said with a smile. "Ok?...and some fresh bread, too."

Dawn grunted in response, which kicked off a round of coughing. She'd lost another job and the last of her money had been added to some from Ryan and spent on rent. She didn't know what they'd do if it wasn't for the money Ryan was bringing in. He was a good boy. She wrapped the blanket around herself tighter, feeling the chill in the room, wishing she could have a drink. That would take the chill off. The heat in the building was sporadic at best and even when it worked it never got that warm.

Ryan looked at his mother a moment longer and sighed when she offered nothing more. She'd gotten so thin and she was sick all of the time. The drugs and drinking had caught up to her. Add in the winter weather and she looked quite frail. Ryan didn't know what to do. He couldn't let social services find out. They'd take him from her again and she'd die without him for sure. It was hard enough forcing food into her but he had managed to get her clean off of the drugs. Ok, so that was partly because AJ had taken off and didn't supply her with any anymore. She still drank too much but she'd lost her latest job so she didn't have money coming in to keep herself very well stocked. He made sure she never knew how much money he made on the street, claiming that he had only made enough to help cover rent or whatever food he brought home. That was true enough sometimes but this time of year, people were more generous with their money. Everything he'd earned in the past couple of weeks had gone to rent and food. He hoped to bring in a decent haul today so that they could have a nice Christmas like everyone else, with not just a warm meal but an actual present or two. He had already gotten a tree. Sort of a Charlie Brown tree but it was better than nothing. He'd found some old lights in the trash. They were tangled but all he had to do was find the burnt out bulb and they worked fine. He took one last look at his mother and headed out the door.

He set up on the corner, under the little canopy of a shop that had tables outside in the summer months. The shop keeper was nice and never ran him off. In fact, Ryan was a bit of a draw. In the summer the customers would sit outside and enjoy the live music. In the winter people would stop to listen and then wander inside to partake of some coffee or hot chocolate. The owner made sure to have the door open slightly to allow the aroma to waft out in the cold winter air. Some would stay to eat before heading back out into the cold and continuing on their way.

Ryan swept away what snow had drifted over and set the case down. He pulled out the guitar and propped the case open beside him to catch whatever money people bestowed on him. He pulled off his gloves and strummed the guitar and did some quick tuning and began to play. Early in the day people smiled as they passed by and recognized the carols but it was usually when he added his voice that people stopped and listened. They'd listen to his soothing tone as it soared above the street noise. Small crowds would gather and listen until he finished a song and they'd murmur and applaud before dropping a few precious coins or bills into his guitar case. He'd smile his thanks and breathe on his hands to warm them and then he'd start another song. This day was an especially cold one. The sun didn't seem to register through the cold bite of the wind. He'd had to stop frequently to warm his hands and drive away the numbness so his fingers could work the chords. As the day wore on things began to look bleak. He wasn't making as much money as he had hoped. Not many people were stopping to listen or even seeming to notice him at all in their rush to do last minute shopping. They had places to be on Christmas Eve. He sighed. It looked like it wouldn't be much of a Christmas after all. Well, at least he'd have money to get them a decent meal. He figured he'd play one more song and then head to the diner and get back to his mom. At least they'd be together. He ended with "Three Ships." As he was singing his last notes he watched as a fifty dollar bill floated down into his case. He stopped playing and grabbed it and chased after the man who had dropped it in, certain it was a mistake.

"Sir?", he said as he got ahead of the man. The man stopped and raised an eyebrow as he held out the bill. "Uh, I think you made a mistake. This is a fifty."

"It was no mistake, son", he said gruffly, inwardly surprised at the boy for trying to correct the perceived mistake instead of just keeping the money.

Ryan's eyebrows raised as he took in the man. He was well dressed, gray hair peeking out from under his hat. His polished shoes and expensive coat certainly screamed of money. "Oh, uh, ok. Thanks." His smile lit up his face. "Thanks a lot, sir", he said again as he started to step aside and go back.

The man watched as alarm suddenly spread across the boy's face just before he took off in a run.

"No. Don't! That's my stuff!", he yelled as two older boys, late teens or early twenties, grabbed his guitar and case and tore off down the street and into an alley. Ryan took off after them and managed to catch up. He grabbed at the case and demanded it back. The older boy landed a punch and the momentum of the hit coupled with the snow slick steet caused Ryan to loose his balance and he fell to the ground in a pile of slushy half melted snow. The second boy laughed and landed a kick to his side as a voice carried down toward them. "Leave that boy alone!" At the appearance of the man from the street, the two thieves stopped and quickly disappeared down the alley. A defeated Ryan lay still in the snow, fighting back tears. The man extended a hand, asking if he was all right. Ryan accepted the hand and pulled himself up, nodding that he was ok, too upset to speak. His money. His guitar. His livelihood. His joy. Gone.

Head hung low, he turned to start out of the alley.

"You're bleeding. We should get you cleaned up", the man said.

Ryan stopped and looked warily at the man. He didn't look like a perv but you never knew. "That's ok. I just live a few blocks away", he said as he sniffled and dabbed his gloved hand at the wetness under his nose, coming away with a little blood.

"Well, my daughter's closer. That's where I was headed back to. You shouldn't be out in this weather with your clothes so wet. We'll get you warm and dry then we'll discuss what I owe you for your guitar."

"W..what?", Ryan spluttered. "You don't..."

"Nonsense. I drew you away, allowing those thugs to abscond with your things. It's Christmas. I insist", the man firmly stated and then started walking, leaving no room for argument.

Ryan stood a moment, unsure of what to do. He didn't know this man. True, he had dropped fifty bucks in his case and came to help him but was he really going to follow him? He slowly started walking, suddenly registering pain in his ankle. Great. He must've twisted it when he was running or when he fell. He hung back a bit so that he could try to make a quick getaway if things felt wrong whenever they got to where they were going.

The man looked back and noticed the limping and slowed his pace with a frown. "Why didn't you say something?", he asked, gesturing to his foot.

"It's not bad. It's fine", Ryan replied, not wanting to get too close.

The man came to a complete halt, though, waiting for him to catch up. "My name is Caleb Nichol, by the way", he said and then raised an eyebrow when Ryan didn't reciprocate.

"Oh, uh. Ryan. My name's Ryan Atwood", he answered uneasily. He didn't like to give his name out but it came out before he could stop himself. Something about the man demanded compliance.

They walked a block over and as they approached the steps to a building the door swung open.

"Dad! There you are. I was getting worried", a blonde woman exclaimed as she stepped out.

"I got a little sidetracked. Nothing to worry about", Caleb said as he climbed the stairs. He looked back and noticed Ryan had not made any move to follow. "Are you all right? Do you need help up the stairs?"

Ryan looked past him and to the woman who was now looking expectantly at him.

Suddenly nervous, he said, "Uh. No. Look, it's ok. I...think I should just get home."

"Nonsense. Come on. We'll have a look at that ankle and get you warmed up and then I'll drive you home."

"Dad?", the woman said questioningly, wondering what was going on and who this boy was.

"Some thugs ran off with his things. Roughed him up a bit. He's soaked through", he told her as he impatiently motioned for Ryan to follow. "Come along now. I think the temperature's dropping as we speak."

The woman watched him for a beat and then turned as he finally started up the stairs. "So, dad, are you going to tell me what was so important that you needed to run out for? It's so cold. You really should have taken your car."

Caleb waved her off. "I wasn't going to mess with trying to find parking when I could just walk. It did me good." Truth was, his Rose always liked to go out on Christmas Eve and take in all of the sights and sounds of the season. When he'd heard the boy singing, he missed her all the more. She would have loved hearing the carols sung so beautifully. She loved all things Christmas. Almost as much as his grandson, Seth.

Right on cue, a voice rang out. "Grandpa! There you are. I was about to send out a search party. Mom said I could open one present but I had to wait for you to get back." Seth registered the boy trailing behind. "Oh, who are you?"

Ryan stood frozen as all eyes turned to him once he entered the room. He started as he heard the blonde woman close the door behind him, suddenly feeling trapped.

Caleb noticed the boy's discomfort. "This is Ryan. He's had a bit of misfortune befall him tonight", he explained. He extended a hand and motioned Ryan further into the room.

He hesitantly started to follow, grimacing as he put weight on his ankle.

A woman watching from a doorway sprang forward. "You're hurt. Come. Sit", she ordered. "Oh my. You're soaked through", she stated, pulling off his wet jacket and pushing him into a chair before he even knew what had happened. "Sethela throw this in the dryer and then go get the first aid kit. Grab a washcloth and some ice from the kitchen, as well. Wet the wash cloth and put the ice in a ziplock bag." She turned back to Ryan. "Now, let's have a look", she said as she reached for his foot.

Ryan pulled back. "It's ok. I...it's not bad." He looked around, noting everyone's positions in the room.

Sensing his nervousness, the woman's voice softened. "My name is Sophie. You've met Caleb, obviously, but that's my son, Sandy, and his wife Kirsten", she calmly introduced.

"Here ya go, Grandma", Seth said as he reentered the room.

"And this...this is my Sethela", Sophie said as she squeezed his cheek.

Seth blushed, "_Grandma_...it's Seth. Uh, nice to meet you."

Ryan simply nodded to all of the forced smiles.

"Now, I just want to see if there's any swelling. All right?", Sophie asked.

Ryan bit his lip and nodded.

She pulled off his boot carefully and noticed that it was indeed starting to swell. She slid an ottoman over and propped his foot up, placing the bag of ice upon it. "We'll see if that helps and then wrap it", she stated as she took the washcloth and reached to wipe off his face but he pulled back again. She smiled gently and placed it in his hand and he started dabbing at his nose.

While Sophie was tending to Ryan, Sandy and Kirsten pulled Caleb into the kitchen.

"All right, Cal, where did he come from?", Sandy asked.

Caleb explained the earlier events and watched as Sandy's and Kirsten's foreheads wrinkled in concern.

"Dad, I...it's nice you want to help him but...", Kirsten started.

"How do you know it's not a scam?", Sandy interrupted. "What if he's working with those other boys? They wait and see who drops what into the case...they see a larger bill, see the expensive clothes...", he laid out, motioning to Caleb's attire. "They play on your sympathies and get you to lead them to where you live. How do you know those other two aren't out there right now, waiting to carjack you when you leave or that he's not casing the place to break in later?"

Caleb shook his head. "You're getting cynical working at the PD's office, Sanford. You didn't see the boy. He was devastated. It's not an act. You both may think I'm going daft in my old age but I'm not an idiot. I haven't gotten to where I am today by being naive. I can smell a rat a mile away and this boy is no rat."

Kirsten studied her father and decided to let it drop. She'd just keep an eye on the boy and lock up tight tonight. "All right, dad. Just...just be careful."

"So, then, what do you plan to do now that he's here?", Sandy asked. He, too, decided to let the matter drop for now. He'd find out the boy's last name and run a check on him.

"Well, I told him I'd reimburse him for the guitar...", he stated, holding up a hand to stop the impending arguments. "I am the reason he left his things unattended. It's Christmas. He wouldn't be out there playing for money in this weather if he didn't need it and I wouldn't be able to sleep wondering how else he'd end up earning money without it. No arguments." With that he turned and left the room.

Kirsten and Sandy exchanged looks and shook their heads as they eventually followed.

Seth was babbling away, explaining the concept of Chrismukkah to Ryan, who had a bemused look on his face. He had relaxed a bit and was leaning tiredly back in the chair. He tensed up again as the others came back into the room.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?", Caleb said as he sat on the sofa. "How much money do you think you lost?"

Ryan straightened, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I..."

"How much money had you made when those hooligans stole it?", Caleb clarified.

Sandy and Kirsten stood off to the side, arms crossed in front of them. "Here we go", they thought.

"Not much...maybe 18 dollars...but, you don't have to...I mean...it's not your fault. You don't have to...", Ryan stumbled.

Sandy's eyebrows rose in surprise. He'd expected the boy to claim to have lost much more than that. He looked the boy over closely. He was a bit thin but his color was good. His eyes were clear. He wasn't shaking like he needed a fix. His clothes were a bit tattered but clean. Maybe Caleb was right. He was getting pessimistic working with all of those delinquents in the PD's office. Some were good kids that just got caught up in bad circumstances. He didn't used to be so judgmental.

"Nonsense", Caleb stated as he pulled out his wallet. He held out a twenty.

Ryan shook his head and opened his hand, revealing the bill still clutched within it. "I still have the fifty you gave me. That will cover what I lost", he said.

"That fifty was part of your take for the night. I insist", Caleb said firmly, still holding out the twenty. At Ryan's continued reluctance, he softened. "You earned it. Those boys took it from you. Indulge an old man."

Ryan locked eyes with him and lowered his eyes as he took it. "Thank you", he said softly.

Sandy relaxed, getting a good feeling about the kid. He walked to the closet. "Caleb said you lost your guitar as well?...", he questioned as he pushed some coats aside.

"Uh, yeah", Ryan answered slowly, leaning forward to try to see what he was doing. His eyes opened wide when he produced a guitar case and walked over to them.

"This has been sitting here for years, gathering dust", he said as he opened the case.

Kirsten gasped. "Sandy...", she said, sensing what he was about to do. He hadn't sung to her in years but he courted her with that guitar. He couldn't give it to this strange boy. He wouldn't.

"What do you say?", Sandy said sliding it over. "Cal said that he offered to reimburse you for your guitar. How about you just take this one?"

Ryan's eyes lingered over the guitar body and then raised to meet Sandy's. "I couldn't...this is...mine just came from the pawn shop. It was nowhere near as nice as this one. I really couldn't..."

"Tell ya what...we'll call it a loaner. How about that?", Sandy offered, seeing Kirsten's pinched face. He hadn't really thought how she'd feel about his spur of the moment offering. Maybe this would appease them both. "You use it until you earn enough to buy yourself another".

"I...I don't know what to say...", Ryan struggled.

"Say, ok, dude", Seth chimed in. "Please! For my sake. I had hoped he'd sold that damned thing long ago. You have no idea how disturbing it is to walk in on your ex-hippielike father singing all moonie eyed to your ex-sorta hippie mother". He only half-jokingly over-dramatically shudders his whole body.

"Don't say 'damned', Seth", Kirsten said with a frown. Did Sandy really think this kid would bring it back? He'll probably pawn it the second he leaves here. She sighed. She'd seen the quick change in Sandy the more he watched Ryan. He had that look like he did when he first started working for the PD's office. Eager to help. Wide eyed and optimistic but she'd seen the light slowly go out of his eyes each time he went to the wire for someone only for them to throw away the second chances he was giving them. He'd even been talking about quitting and going to work for a private firm. She had been hoping for that. It would be more respectable. She loved his do gooder nature when they'd met. He was so different than everyone she'd known but he had to grow up sometime and see people for what they were and not who he hoped them to be.

Ryan ran his hand softly across the guitar surface. "Ok. Thank you. I'll take really good care of it. I promise", he said earnestly, looking Sandy straight in the eye. "I'll get it back to you as soon as I can."

"No hurry. Just do one thing for me", Sandy said with a smile.

Ryan tensed, wondering what he could ask for in return.

"Play something?", he asked with his eyebrows raised hopefully.

Ryan looked around the room as Sophie, Caleb and Seth all nodded in agreement. He glanced at Kirsten and she was watching him closely. He swallowed and carefully pulled the guitar from the case. Gave it a cursory strum and tuned a couple of strings. He took a breath and began singing "Little Drummer Boy", weaving in "Peace on Earth".

He finished the song to a rapt audience. The last note hung in the air.

"Dude, that was awesome", Seth said nodding in appreciation. "a play on the Bowie/Crosby version...cool."

Ryan smiled and ducked his head as a blush rose into his cheeks.

Kirsten's soft voice sounded, "My mother loved that song. Peace on Earth. She loved Christmastime."

She looked upset so Ryan tried to apologize. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you..."

She shook her head. "No. It's all right, Ryan. I just hadn't heard that song in a while. You have a lovely voice", she said genuinely, albeit a little grudgingly.

Ryan could tell she was uncomfortable with him there. He leaned forward and carefully placed the guitar back in the case. "Well, I should go. My mom is expecting me and I still need to pick up a few things". He held up the money and smiled, "thanks again". He carefully slipped on his boot and pushed himself up, tentatively testing his ankle. "Umm, my jacket?"

"Oh! I'll get it, dude", Seth said and then rushed out of the room. He pulled the jacket out of the dryer and looked it over. It wasn't very heavy. It couldn't be very warm. One of the pockets was torn. He nodded as he made a decision.

Caleb stood as well, reminding Ryan that he had offered to drive him home. Ryan tried to shrug it off and say he could make it back all right but Caleb insisted that with the guitar and that bad ankle he'd have a hard time handling whatever else he needed to stop and buy. Ryan finally agreed just as Seth came back into the room.

"Uh, here's your jacket but...", he said as he reached for a coat on the coat rack in the corner of the room. "This would be warmer". He saw Ryan frowning. "No big deal. I've got a new one under the tree", he stated, gesturing to the pile of gifts.

"Seth!", Kirsten said. "You peeked?"

"Duh, mom", Seth scoffed and turned back to Ryan. "Really dude. It's cool. Totally not charity in any way shape or form...", he trailed off at Ryan's pointed look. "Ok, maybe a little charity but really, man, why let a good coat go to waste and yours has seen better days. No offense."

"Is this the part where I say 'God bless us, every one'?", Ryan said flatly before one side of his mouth quirked up.

Seth chuckled. "If the gimpy leg fits. You just need a crutch and you'd be totally minty".

Ryan shook his head in amusement. He looked at the coat and chewed his lip. "Thanks. I appreciate it...I owe you, man", he said, his mind trying to puzzle out some way to repay the kid. Since he knew where he lived he decided that when he came back to return the guitar he'd bring something for Seth, too. He knew he needed a better coat but buying himself a better one always got pushed to the back of the list, after rent and food or medicine for his mom. He slipped on the coat and ran a hand down the material. "This is really nice. It looks expensive. Are you sure it's ok?", he asked as he looked past Seth to Kirsten. "You don't mind?"

Kirsten bristled a bit as all eyes turned to her. She couldn't say no without coming off like a completely unfeeling bitch. She gave a tight smile, "Of course not. It's fine. Like Seth said, he has a new one and we'd only end up giving it away to goodwill or something anyway. Might as well cut out the middle man". She didn't mean to sound condescending but from the look on Sandy and Seth's faces, as well as Ryan's, she apparently did.

Ryan nodded and offered a curt thank you and then turned and headed for the door.

Caleb followed, tossing a frown at Kirsten as he grabbed his own coat and hat.

Sophie clucked her disapproval at Kirsten as well as she turned back toward the kitchen.

Kirsten pursed her lips in annoyance. Why was she always the bad guy?

* * *

Caleb grabbed the bag of groceries and the guitar from the back seat as Ryan eased himself out of the car with the bag from the deli, containing the soup and bread he promised his mom. He followed Ryan to his apartment building. Caleb recognized it as one of his own. He owned a lot of properties, including many run down apartment buildings. Buildings he planned to tear down and use as paid parking space. He grimaced as he entered the building. It was in deplorable condition. He hadn't wanted to put any money into it since they were going to be evicting people and tearing it down anyway.

"I live on the fourth floor. Uh, sorry, but the elevator doesn't work", Ryan said as he sighed and looked up the flight of stairs. His ankle was really starting to throb. Caleb noticed the hesitation and frowned. He told him to wait there and before Ryan could protest he headed up the stairs with the items, asking for the apartment number. Ryan told him and Caleb disappeared for a few moments and returned empty handed.

"All right, young man. Up we go", he said, taking Ryan's arm and putting it over his shoulder as he slipped his arm across Ryan's back. "Lean on me as much as you need."

Ryan's first instinct was to resist and tough it out but he realized that he was tired of toughing it out. Tired of doing everything alone, and the prospect of trudging up four flights of stairs unassisted just didn't appeal to him at all right at that moment. So he took the help and they slowly made their way to the apartment. He was half surprised no one had swiped the guitar and food from where Caleb had left it, outside his apartment door. Even with the help, he was exhausted. He turned to Caleb and offered his hand. "Thanks. I, uh, I really appreciate the help", he said sincerely. "You didn't have to...", he trailed off, waving his hand in acknowledgment of all that had transpired, not knowing quite where to begin. The fifty dollar bill, taking him to his daughter's home, replacing the money and leading to his guitar being replaced for the time being. Hell, he even got a new coat out of the deal and a ride home.

Caleb dismissed his thanks. "It was no trouble", he said as he studied the boy before him. He sensed a weariness about him that went beyond the events of the day. He remained in place as Ryan dug in his pocket for his keys. He let his eyes drift down the dimly lit hallway. The paint was flaking off of the graffiti covered walls. Trash was littering the corners. His attention was drawn back to Ryan as he opened the door and awkwardly attempted to thank him again, unsure of just why Mr. Nichol had not yet made a move to leave. He reached down for the bag of groceries but Caleb beat him to it, grabbing both the sack and the guitar case. Ryan blinked. He really didn't want him to come inside. Not with his mother sick, and not to mention the state of their apartment after seeing the lush digs they'd just come from. "Uh..."

"You need to get off that ankle", Caleb cut in. "I'll just get these the rest of the way in and I'll be on my way." His voice softened, "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, son."

Ryan finally acquiesced and opened the door wider. Caleb was mildly surprised. The apartment itself was consistent with the state of the rest of the building but it was comfortably furnished. Clearly second hand furniture but the place was neat. He turned as he heard a series of painful sounding coughs emanating from behind the bedroom door.

Ryan quickly reached into the bag and pulled out a container of soup. Grabbing a spoon and a bottle of water from the fridge he uttered an "excuse me" and rushed into the bedroom.

Caleb couldn't help himself and watched through the crack door as Ryan offered the water to his mother and helped her sit up. "It's cold in here, ma. Why do you have the window open? You're already sick", he said as he went over to close the window.

Dawn coughed. "It's stuffy in here. I needed some air. Where you been? Why are you limping?"

"I slipped in the snow. I got us some food and here's that soup I promised you", he said, leaving out the details. Sitting beside her on the bed he removed the lid and held the container out for her.

"'m not hungry", Dawn said as she pushed the food away.

"You have to eat, ma. You haven't had anything since last night", Ryan pleaded.

Irritation flared through Dawn but looking up into Ryan's worried face she tamped it down and took the proffered soup. She had to admit it smelled good. She gave Ryan a smile and reached out to cup his cheek. "Thanks, baby. You're a good boy. Don't know what I'd do without ya."

Caleb took in the room as the words became soft mumbles. He smiled at the skimpy little tree, reminding him of a time long past when he and his parents lived in a rundown little apartment. Not so bad as this one but it was miserable enough that he had vowed as a boy that when he grew up he'd never want for anything. He stepped up to the tree and fingered the makeshift ornaments. One a matchbox car.

"That was my brother's", Ryan's voice came from behind, startling him slightly. He looked from the car to Ryan and back to the car. Judging from Ryan's expression he would guess that the use of "was" meant more than the car just being left behind. His suspicions confirmed as Ryan stepped closer and spoke again.

"He...", Ryan sighed as he pondered just how much he'd say about him. He blew out a breath and forged ahead. "He was killed last year trying to steal the real thing...a patrol car happened by just as he was boosting it. Just his fucking luck. He rolled it, running from them...no seat belt..." He shook his head as he reached out and plucked the car from the tree, an unreadable expression on his face. "He came by that night. Wanted me to go out with him so he could "teach" me a few things...I...I didn't want to. I didn't want to learn what he wanted to show me. I didn't like his friends. They were bad news. Drinking. Drugs. Trey got into all of that. He hadn't been coming around much and it had been a while since I'd seen him. I can't help but think that if I'd gone...maybe..."

"Don't do that to yourself. What ifs serve no purpose. He made his choice. A bad one...and you made yours. The right one. If you had gone your mother might have lost two sons that night, one way or another."

Ryan looked at him thoughtfully a moment before his eyes drifted to the door to his mother's room. Mr. Nichol was right. His mother needed him. Had he gone he'd probably either be dead or in jail. He slowly nodded as he placed the car back on the tree.

"I wouldn't think you'd want such a...dark reminder...", Caleb said as he gestured to the tree.

Ryan smiled sadly. "I threw it in the trash...right after. But..." He shrugged his shoulder. "He was a good brother when we were kids. He always said he'd have a car like that when he grew up. It's not a bad thing to want things. He just...I guess I fished it out of the trash so I don't forget. So I don't make the wrong choices trying to get the things I want for myself...and my mom."

Caleb nodded in understanding, admiring Ryan's will to rise above his difficult circumstance. "Well, young man. I'd better be getting back. My daughter is probably ready to call the police and report me missing."

Ryan huffed and smiled. "She didn't like me very much."

"Ah, well. She is who I taught her to be. I spoiled her. Her and her sister. Their mother tried to teach them to be grateful for what they had and to have compassion for those who had little. When she died...", he trailed off at the familiar pain of loss. How he missed his Rose.

"I'm sorry...", Ryan offered.

"Thank you. She was a wonderfully generous woman", Caleb said fondly. "Without her all the girls were left with was my rather selfish and cynical outlook."

Ryan's brow furrowed. "You seem pretty generous to me. You..."

Caleb waved him off. "Unfortunately, my boy, what you've seen of me today was an aberration."

"Well, aberration or not, thanks. For everything", Ryan said earnestly as he extended his hand.

Caleb smiled as he shook it firmly. He liked this boy. "You have a Merry Christmas, Ryan."

"You, too, Mr. Nichol."

Ryan saw him to the door and set about putting away the few groceries he'd picked up. Once finished, he went to check on Dawn and found her sleeping once again. He pulled the blanket up and tucked it around her. Taking the container of soup from the nightstand he nodded in satisfaction as he noticed that she'd eaten nearly all of it. Stomach rumbling as he returned to the kitchen, he grabbed his soup and a piece of bread and set it on the coffee table. He plugged in the lights on the tree and settled on the couch, thoughts drifting every which way.

* * *

"Dad! What took you so long? I was getting worried", Kirsten said as Caleb walked through the door. "I thought maybe that boy..."

"Ryan. His name is Ryan and nothing happened. I helped him carry his things inside and we simply got to talking a bit. Relax, Kiki." He waved her off as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the hook.

Kirsten frowned. "Well, dinner is almost ready", she said, eager to change the subject.

Caleb turned to his daughter. "It smells wonderful. I take it Sophie did all the cooking", he said as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Kirsten rolled her eyes and wandered back to the kitchen with a huff. "It's not wise to insult someone who will be serving you your food", she teasingly threw over her shoulder.

Caleb walked into the sitting room and took a seat by the fire. His thoughts drifting back to Ryan and their sparsely furnished, drafty apartment. He was ashamed of the state of the building. A building he owned. He'd never really given a thought to the people living within when he purchased and planned to destroy it. He found himself wondering what Ryan would do when...if...they had to find someplace else to live. If the boy was resorting to earning money as a street musician it was a safe bet that money for rent was a struggle. His mother was clearly not well. Sitting back he pulled out his phone and made some calls.

Seth walked in, catching part of a conversation. "...I don't care how much it costs. I want that building brought up to code. Hell, I want it more than brought up to code. Obviously, I am no longer going to tear it down if I want it brought up to code...plans have changed...That bad? Mold?...carbon monoxide levels?...Yes, I know I paid off the inspectors but I hadn't realized...then find temporary housing for all of the tenants until it can be done...no, I haven't been drinking! Just do it. Keep me informed."

Stunned, Seth just stood there gaping at his grandfather. Before he could comment, Caleb was making another call. "Dr. Silverman. Caleb Nichol here...no. No, everything is fine. I'm not calling for me. I have a request..."

Seth listened as Caleb made arrangements for his personal physician to pay a house call to Ryan and his mother in the next couple of days, and to charge any treatment or prescriptions for her to him. Seth wondered if his grandfather hadn't been replaced with a pod person.

"Seth?", Caleb's voice shook him from his thoughts. "How long have you been standing there?", he asked as he stood.

"Long enough to find out that you're a slumlord", Seth said as he walked over to the fireplace, studying his grandfather closely.

Caleb frowned at "slumlord" but couldn't deny the truth of the statement.

"Grandpa? You didn't happen to be visited by 3 ghosts last night, did you?"

Caleb snorted. "Of sorts." Meeting Ryan had indeed caused him to ponder past, present and future. He reached out and pulled a startled Seth into an unexpected hug. "Mainly just a teenage boy reminding me what it is to struggle and making me realize just how much I have." He patted Seth on the back and then pulled away, hands grasping Seth's shoulders. "You're a fine young man, Seth. I don't tell you that enough."

"You've never told me that", Seth said flatly, with a nervous chuckle. His grandpa was kinda freaking him out. They used to be close, when he was little, but as Seth grew and his interests strayed to things that Caleb didn't understand they had drifted apart.

"Well, I'm saying it now", he said as he put an arm around him and started to steer them to the kitchen. "Let's go make sure your mother isn't trying to help cook." He turned and looked up to see Kirsten standing in the doorway, eyes glistening.

She heard the second insult about her lack of cooking skills but, instead of the usual bite she usually sensed in his digs, all she saw was a good humored teasing. Seeing her father hugging her son unclenched something in her gut. Something she hadn't even realized was there. Caleb always seemed so disappointed in her. In her choice of husband. In her son. Seeing him smiling and affectionate with Seth spread a warmth through her that she hadn't really felt since her mother died. She smiled as they all gathered around the table, drinking in the good natured banter. Sandy squeezed her hand and gave her a peck on the cheek. She was a lucky woman.

* * *

Ryan sighed and shifted on the couch as he slowly started to awaken. Feeling a hand brush across his forehead, he opened his eyes. Blinking the sleep away, he smiled as he saw his mother standing over him. He pushed himself up a bit. "Feeling better, ma?"

"Yeah. A little bit, baby", Dawn said as she pulled her robe around her tighter. "Thought I'd make breakfast. You said you went to the store last night, right?"

Ryan nodded as he pushed the blanket off of him and sat up. "The basics. Milk, eggs, bacon, bread and something to cook for dinner tonight."

"How about some french toast?", Dawn asked.

Ryan smiled and nodded, already knowing that's what she'd make. It was really the only thing she didn't burn. "Sounds great, ma? I'll make the bacon."

Once done, they sat at their little table and Ryan looked up at his mother. She looked better. Not so pale. She still had the cough but it wasn't so bad this morning that it stole her breath and relegated her to her bed. His eyes drifted to the guitar case leaning near the door, the coat hanging on the hook and back to the table and the rare home cooked meal by his mother's hand. This coming year was going to be a good one. He could feel it. The Atwood luck always had a way of keeping them down but he couldn't squelch the hopeful feeling that had settled over him.

"Everything ok, sweetie?", Dawn asked worriedly when she saw Ryan wasn't eating.

"Yeah. I'm good", he replied with a smile. He paused a moment and then said, "Merry Christmas, ma."

Dawn reached over and patted his hand. "Merry Christmas, baby."

The End.

(a bit abrupt, I know, but there's too much stuff going on for the holidays and if I didn't wrap it up and get it posted it probably wouldn't have gotten posted until next Christmas. lol)

**A/N I know I've been absent and have a lot of stories dangling unfinished but you know how it goes. Life gets in the way. I won't bore with the details. Just know that I am trying to get back into a writing groove. Hasn't been working too well at the moment but I'm trying. I'm having to reread the stories so I can get my details straight and try to remember what was going on and where I had been wanting to go with each story. In the meantime, I started this little thing and then got stuck. I was going to go all dramatic and have Dawn die or be deathly ill and have a Christmas miracle-y ending but ended up downplaying it and going a little schmoopy/cheesy.**

**I have another AU that I'm also working on and will not post until it's done, so I don't add yet another WIP for people to get pissed at me for not finishing yet. lol.**

**Anyway, Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it and Happy Holidays to everyone else:)**


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